


all tangled up

by jaemarked



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Fluff, M/M, Soulmates, minor Jaehyun/Johnny/Taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaemarked/pseuds/jaemarked
Summary: “So what does this mean?” Jaemin asked, and when Jisung looked at him, he was being directed to sit down by Youngho who had come over from his position next to the door. He looked just as shaken as Jisung, his face pale.Jisung looked at Taeyong helplessly, unable to answer, and Taeyong stepped up next to his chair. He swept Jaemin’s contract off the desk, splaying his hands out as he leaned forward.“Tell me, Jaemin,” Taeyong began. “Do you believe in soulmates?”
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Park Jisung
Comments: 14
Kudos: 199





	all tangled up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mythological](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythological/gifts).



> OKAY this took an unreasonably long time (like a month and a half) but it's finally finished!
> 
> this is an actual gift fic for mina, the other ones were unplanned. we had a conversation about jaemsung and i was like hey i should write a short oneshot and somehow it's 15k. i really hate myself.
> 
> WARNINGS: there's some minor mentions of kidnapping, child neglect, and all around poor parenting. 
> 
> also this is not beta-read.

Jisung sighed when his attendant presented him a small golden crown embedded on a purple velvet cushion. His eyes flickered from the crown, to his attendant’s face, and then back to the crown before shaking his head.

“No, I don’t want to wear that today,” Jisung said, placing a hand on the pillow and pushing it out of his line of sight.

“But Your Highness,” Taeyong protested, trying to bring up the crown again. “It is bad enough you refused your royal attire. Your father will not be pleased with your appearance.”

“Taeyong, do you not wish you were at a position as someone other than my attendant? Perhaps you are more suited to be a royal advisor, and yet you were stuck with a brat of a prince,” Jisung said, turning to face the mirror. Indeed, he wasn’t dressed in his usual royal garbs, but casual everyday clothes that he would not mind getting dirty. He made a face at the leather armour he wore, but understood that it was for his own protection. 

“O-Of course not, Your Highness,” Taeyong stuttered, cheeks pink. “I do not mind whatever position I am given.”

Jisung frowned, and Taeyong quickly amended his statement.

“I am happy being by your side. Honestly,” Taeyong said, and blushed harder when he realized how informally he had spoken. 

Jisung smiled, spinning around to face his attendant. He grabbed Taeyong’s hands with his own, causing his attendant to gasp and drop the crown in shock. It clattered to the floor noisily and rolled away, but neither of them paid any attention.

“Your Highness,” Taeyong said frantically, trying to pull away. “Please, I cannot—”

“You’ve been my attendant for six years, Taeyong. I have spent more time with you than my own mother and father. Will you please call me Jisung?”

Taeyong shook his head, finally taking his hands out of Jisung’s grip. He was so dainty, with thin wrists and delicate features. When he first became Jisung’s attendant, everyone wondered if he would be able to hold his own, including Jisung himself. But Taeyong had proved himself time and time again how capable he was, having bested every single one of the royal bodyguards in a duel. Even Jisung’s own bodyguard, Youngho, had been defeated by Taeyong, wiry and wily and quick on his feet. 

“I cannot, Your Highness. Your father—”

“Taeyong,” Jisung began, voice calm but firm. “As Crown Prince of Syrerun, I order you to call me by name.”

Taeyong shut his eyes, his entire body slumping in defeat. If Jisung was honest, he would admit that he hated exerting his power and status over Taeyong, who was six years older than him and deserved more than just being his royal babysitter. 

“Yes, Jisung,” Taeyong acquiesced, his voice shaking. “I will call you by name.”

Excited, Jisung launched himself into his attendant’s arms, nearly bowling him over because he forgot he was no longer smaller than his tiny attendant. Taeyong stumbled but managed to stay upright, though his body was ramrod straight in Jisung’s arms.

“Jisung, I can’t—”

“You can,” Jisung assured him. “Because I say you can, and nobody can deny me. So please, let me thank you for always being by my side. You are like a brother to me.” _You practically raised me,_ Jisung didn’t say.

Finally, Taeyong softened, if almost imperceptibly. “It is with pleasure, Jisung. I would not rather be anywhere else but here. I promise.”

“Then,” Jisung said, pulling away, “will you join me for breakfast?”

Taeyong hesitated. “I am not permitted to—”

“I’m giving you permission,” Jisung told him. He knew too much about how royal staff were treated. In the hierarchy, attendants were still at the bottom, though not as low as servants, kitchen staff, and gardeners. And those on the bottom were looked down upon by anyone above them. “Please. It’s been six years, and I am tired of eating alone.”

Before Jisung had turned twelve, he had eaten breakfast with his mother and father, the Queen and King of Syrerun. But they rarely looked Jisung in the eyes these days, ever since he had decided to stop covering the scar that ran across his nose bridge from cheekbone to cheekbone. Six years have passed since then, and Jisung would eat breakfast in the lounge of his suite, usually rolled in on a cart by one of the servants, while Taeyong either disappeared or stood next to him reading over his schedule for the day.

“I will also permit Youngho to join us,” Jisung said, thinking of his royal bodyguard who was most likely standing outside of his bedroom right now. He didn’t miss the flush that appeared on Taeyong’s cheeks at the mention of his guard, but he mentally noted it down. _How interesting._ “He must be tired from standing at my door all morning.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t throw such a tantrum over your attire for the day,” Taeyong muttered, then his eyes widened as he realized what he said. “I’m so sorry—“

Jisung threw his head back and cackled. “Finally showing your true colours, Taeyong? I knew you thought of me as a brat.”

Taeyong’s shocked face transformed into a small smile when he realized he would not be beheaded for his words. “Yes, well, I’m particularly fond of this brat.”

“You’re dismissed,” Jisung said snidely, then burst into a fit of giggles when Taeyong shot him a glare and exited the bedroom, presumably to check if Jisung’s breakfast had been delivered. Jisung shot a longing glance at his bed, already neatly made by Taeyong though it would soon be stripped and remade by a servant. He hated waking up at fifth bell every morning, and wanted nothing more than to sleep in for a day. Still, at least today’s schedule was more excitable than usual. He had much to look forward to. He straightened out his clothing once more, adjusted the sword strapped to his side, and then went into the sitting room for a much needed breakfast. 

“Good morning, Your Highness,” the servant laying dishes out on the table greeted. Taeyong was conversing with Youngho, who was already dressed in full armour despite the early hour and the sweltering heat. Jisung had never once seen him crack. “This morning, we have smoked salmon, an assortment of cheeses, crackers, and crab rangoon dip. I hope it is to your liking.”

“Thank you, Rosalie,” Jisung said, and watched as the servant’s lips parted in shock. They were always surprised when Jisung remembered their names, which is why he took care in learning all of them. “You are dismissed. Please take the long way back to the kitchens.” He wanted to give her a break, but he knew that wasn’t possible when she had to clean up from breakfast and then prepare for lunch. Still, taking the long way meant she would be able to rest for just a moment, and she would be able to walk past the courtyard and enjoy the flowers.

She bowed to him and left, then Jisung ushered both Youngho and Taeyong to sit down. They both seemed hesitant, but after a few moments of persuasion, they finally sat across from Jisung. They could never sit next to him, Jisung knew, but his side still felt cold and lonely anyway. He wished he at least had a sibling, someone who was of equal status to him, but he was an only child.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Youngho greeted him. “Will you still be attending the Summer Festival today?”

The Syrerun Summer Festival was an annual week-long celebration held every year, in honour of successful crops and a time of peace, as there was no war occuring. It was a time for both civilians and the royal family alike to gather in the middle of the Capital. There were always festivities, and on the last day of the week, the royal courtyard was opened up for the public. At the end of the night, everyone was able to release a floating lantern into the sky with wishes for strength during the winter and the upcoming year. Jisung himself was permitted to join the activities, as advised by his father for “good PR”, but only after he participated in his own event.

Jisung took one look at the red string tied around his pinky and sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. But at least we’ll be able to check out the market, and maybe partake in festivities after I’ve finished with my event.”

“Please eat, Your Highness,” Taeyong spoke, eyes cutting sharply to Youngho. Jisung pouted; he knew that Taeyong was afraid Youngho would snitch on him for using the prince’s name, but he hated being called “Your Highness” by someone who had practically raised him for the past six years. “You have a long day ahead of you.”

Sighing, Jisung picked up his fork and cut into a portion of smoked salmon. Taeyong poured him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and Jisung smiled at him in thanks. It took a few minutes for Taeyong and Youngho to begin eating, but Jisung was happy when they did. He grew even happier when Taeyong began feeling comfortable enough to talk. Jisung loved listening to Taeyong speak passionately about any subject, because Taeyong was so smart and well-spoken. He commented on the recipes, and told Jisung about how his mother used to be a chef. Jisung soaked in the information, delighted, and asked question after question about Taeyong’s mother.

He knew Taeyong hadn’t been home in almost a full year. Attendants were rarely permitted time off, and when they were, they often weren’t allowed to leave the castle grounds. Jisung had tried taking Taeyong to Eastwick where his parents lived, but hadn’t been able to. Taeyong, eyes sparkling, informed him that his parents were coming for the last night of the Summer Festival. 

“Make sure you give me their names,” Jisung said, draining his orange juice. “I’ll book them rooms in the finest inn of the Capital.”

“That’s not necessary, Your Highness,” Taeyong began in protest, but Jisung shook his head and reached for another cracker.

“Of course it is. They’re your parents,” Jisung replied with finality. He stood up from the table and rang the bell for the servant to clear away the mess. Youngho and Taeyong got to their feet, ready to follow Jisung into the Capital. 

As soon as Jisung exited his suite, he was approached by one of the Queen’s attendants. He was carrying a small envelope that he handed to Jisung after a quick bow. Rolling his eyes at his mother’s antics, Jisung broke the seal and opened the envelope, pulling out a small notecard with only two lines.

_Take another guard with you for your safety when you go into the Capital._

_One guard will not cut it anymore._

Jisung exhaled sharply through the nose. He had _two_ guards, Taeyong and Youngho, but his parents were always underestimating Taeyong’s strength. They believed that Taeyong wasn’t strong enough to protect him, even with Taeyong’s amazing records during training. Taeyong could even hold his own against General Nakamoto of the Syrerun Royal Army, and yet his parents looked down on him.

“Send for another Knight,” he informed the attendant through gritted teeth. “Tell him to come quickly.”

The attendant nodded, and left after another bow, his short legs quickly moving down the hall. Jisung pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing in exasperation.

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Taeyong asked, so quietly Jisung almost didn’t hear him. 

“The Queen requests I travel with another guard, as if having two babysitters isn’t enough. Honestly does she not realize that I’m more than capable of defending myself if anything were to happen? I’ve been training for years. _You_ have been protecting me for years. And Youngho is more capable than any knight in the Army,” Jisung spat, clenching his fists in frustration. “And to make matters worse, she doesn’t even bother to tell me in person! She sends me a stupid note!”

“Your Highness,” Taeyong spoke softly, and Jisung felt a brief touch at the small of his back. “Please calm down.”

Jisung took a deep breath, letting go of the rage that had built up inside of him. He rarely lost control, but somehow his parents were making it a common occurrence these days. Calmer now, he started down the hall himself, heading for the stairs. Youngho and Taeyong followed closely behind him, and Jisung was more grateful for their presence than ever before. He may lack his parents, but his bodyguard and his attendant have always felt like family. 

He didn’t even get past the main foyer before he was approached by another knight, who immediately bowed deeply. This knight was unfamiliar to him, though he was certainly memorable. His face was handsome, and his tall, broad stature made him extremely good looking, just like Youngho.

“Jaehyun,” Youngho said, looking surprised to see him.

“Oh, Youngho! Good morning,” the other knight, Jaehyun, smiled widely, his dimples popping up. Jisung had the strange urge to poke them, but managed to contain himself. The knight looked relieved that he would be going on an outing with a familiar face. “I didn’t realize you were attending.”

“You forgot I’m His Highness’s bodyguard?” Youngho asked, sounding amused. Jisung, as always, made a face at the title, but it seemed that nobody noticed. He turned to Taeyong, who was watching both Jaehyun and Youngho with wide eyes. His jaw was tense, and Jisung thought he saw Taeyong’s fists clenched, but when he looked again, Taeyong’s posture was relaxed.

“Ah,” Jaehyun said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I’m honest, I don’t pay much attention to anything other than training.”

“You two know each other?” Taeyong interrupted. Jisung almost wanted to squeal in delight when he realized — Taeyong was jealous. 

“Yeah! Yeah, we grew up in the same neighborhood back in Rosorun,” Jaehyun explained, offering another bright smile aimed at Taeyong. Jaehyun, Jisung noted, had a smile that could melt the iciest hearts. And indeed, Taeyong softened visibly, much to Jisung’s amusement.

“You’re from Rosorun?” Taeyong asked, and it took a moment for Jisung to realize the question was directed to Youngho. “You never told me that.”

“I guess I don’t really talk about my past much,” Youngho said with a shrug. 

Jisung took one look at Taeyong’s face and decided to change the subject. “Taeyong, I forgot to grab my coin purse, could you please get it for me? It’s in the trunk next to my bed.”

“I know where it is,” Taeyong said with an amused grin, turning around to head back up the stairs. Jaehyun looked stunned at the informal language, but Jisung just laughed. Over the years, Taeyong had gotten a little bit more comfortable with Jisung, but this was the first time he had ever spoken so frankly, and Jisung loved it.

Jaehyun and Youngho conversed quietly while they waited for Taeyong to return, and when he did, out of breath but with Jisung’s heavy coin purse clutched in his hands, they made to exit the castle. Jisung frowned at the bright light of the rising sun, already feeling the back of his neck getting sticky with sweat. Jaehyun went to retrieve the horses, which made Jisung smile. He was clearly a capable knight, and Jisung would probably request to have him around more often.

Indeed, when he saw Jaehyun leading three horses, speaking softly to them with a bright smile on his face, he felt his own heart melt at the sight. Jaehyun brought over the beasts, and offered to help Jisung up (though he was more than tall enough to do it himself).

Soon, they were ready to set out, with Jisung and Jaehyun on their own horses and Taeyong sitting behind Youngho, holding tightly to the bodyguard’s waist. As they approached the gates, they were stopped by two knights who blocked off the north gate and one of the King’s advisors.

“Your Highness,” the advisor, Sungjin, said with a bow. “Where are you going?”

“To the Capital for the Festival,” Jisung answered shortly. He was itching to leave already, knowing that the sooner he got to the Capital, the sooner his event would be over and the faster he’d be able to check out all the cool games. Last year, there was an archery contest, and Jisung wasn’t allowed to play, but this year, his parents hadn’t come with him, and he could do whatever he wanted, as long as Taeyong didn’t stop him.

“Does His Majesty know you are attending the Summer Festival today?” Jisung would like to make it known that he hated Sungjin. He was the King’s longest advisor, and the King and Queen treated him like family, but he always looked down at Jisung. He once overheard Sungjin calling him an incompetent disgrace to the Royal Family. Sungjin was the reason why Jisung was forced to take Latin, Greek, and French lessons. Sungjin was the reason Jisung had to learn how to play the piano, violin, and harp. He was constantly breathing down Jisung’s neck, even when Jisung was cooped up all day dealing with paperwork and reports, especially when the King was absent from the Capital. The lords of Syrerun also reported directly to Jisung, who was expected to represent them in meetings every week.

Jisung was considered a perfect prince to the people of Syrerun, but that still wasn’t good enough for Sungjin. And his father always listened to Sungjin.

“Of course. Today is Red String Day,” Jisung replied, holding out his hand to show Sungjin the red string tied around his pinky. He had been wearing it since he was three years old, a magical string gifted to him by the fairy godmothers of the castle. It was charmed to not come undone unless it was untied by Jisung’s one true love. Now that Jisung was eighteen, he was expected to go into the Capital and the sons and daughters of Syrerun were permitted to attempt to untie the string. It was a load of bullshit, but it was tradition for the Royal Family.

Jisung didn’t really care because the event was mostly for show, but he couldn’t help but admit that he was terrified. Anyone was permitted to try, even those decades older than him. He knew the string was tied with magic, but what if an old, lecherous man was the one to untie the string? He hoped Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.

“Ah, I see, so you’ll be heading into the Capital for your long line of suitors?” Sungjin joked. He hadn’t moved his eyes from where they were gazing at the string. Jisung felt his skin crawl, and he fidgeted from his perch atop his horse. 

“Yes,” Jisung replied curtly, wanting nothing more to leave, but the knights had yet to open the gate for them, clearly instructed by Sungjin to wait.

For a moment, he wondered if he was imagining Sungjin reaching for the string on his pinky, but a loud clattering made him startle, and he turned around to see that Youngho had dropped his heavy broadsword on the cobblestones.

“My apologies,” Youngho said, smiling courteously. “I seem to be quite clumsy today.”

“You’d do better to hold tightly to that sword,” Sungjin advised as one of the knights kindly stooped to pick up Youngho’s sword and hand it to him. “You are expected to guard His Highness with your life.”

“I won’t fail,” Youngho replied casually, but his eyes were steely with resolve. “Chan, Yongbok. Please open the gates, we will be taking our leave now.”

“Of course,” said one of the knights, hurrying past Sungjin to open the gates. The other knight, the one who had picked up Youngho’s sword, shot a worried glance at Sungjin before following suit. 

_Interesting…_ Jisung thought as they cranked the heavy gates open. _Why does the knight fear the royal advisor more than the royal bodyguard of the Crown Prince?_

“We’ll be taking our leave now,” Jisung repeated, though he used a voice that left no room for argument. He straightened out his posture and took his hand away from Sungjin’s line of sight. “And Sungjin?” The royal advisor looked up at him, and Jisung smiled wickedly. “I understand it’s your job as an advisor but I will _advise_ you this. It will do you good to remember your place. _I_ tell my bodyguard what to do.”

And with that, they left Sungjin stunned in silence, nothing but the sound of clomping hooves and Youngho’s quiet snickering as they left the castle. Loud, childish laughter rang out, and Jisung realized it was the two knights who were guarding the gates. He smiled to himself, and began telling Youngho, Taeyong, and Jaehyun about the Festival and their itinerary for the day.

“I’ve never been to the festival before,” Jaehyun admitted. “I’ve always been too busy.”

“I’ll make sure you’re part of the entourage next year,” Jisung told him. “Once you’ve experienced it, you’ll wish to return every year.”

“I don’t doubt it, Your Highness,” Jaehyun replied cheerfully. Jisung, having turned around to make eye contact with Jaehyun, caught sight of Taeyong staring openly at Jaehyun’s dimples, and laughed. _So that’s how it is._

“It’s so hot today,” Jisung whined, squinting unhappily at the sun that beamed down on them. “I wish it was cooler.”

“Your Highness, would you like some water?” Taeyong asked, already twisting to retrieve a small jar of water from his satchel. He passed it to Youngho, who used his long arms to hand it off to Jisung, who took it gratefully and unscrewed the lid, bringing the glass to his lips. The cool water hit his parched throat and he drank eagerly. 

“Thank you,” Jisung said genuinely, handing the jar back to Youngho. He turned back to the road and gasped when he caught sight of something laying in the middle of the path. “Oh, look at that!”

It was a small, furry creature, that much Jisung could tell. He immediately halted his horse, jumping down before Taeyong could stop him and running over to the animal. Taking in the sight of matted fur and pointed ears, one torn a little, Jisung realized that it was a cat. 

“Taeyong!” Jisung cried, turning around. Taeyong was already getting down from his horse with Youngho’s aid, and he ran over immediately, his expression softening when he caught sight of the cat.

“Oh no,” he murmured, and to Jisung’s surprise, knelt right in the dirt as he examined the cat for injuries. The cat finally reacted to the commotion, eyes blinking open. She, and Jisung could now tell she was a female, looked fearful, but didn’t even move. Finally, she mewled, a pitiful and weak sound, and Jisung’s heart went out to her.

“I think she’s just dehydrated,” Taeyong murmured. Before Jisung could tell him to, he reached into his satchel and took out another jar of water. He poured some into the lid of the first jar Jisung had emptied and placed the lid right next to the cat’s mouth with a gentle coo. 

It took some more coaxing, and a helping hand from Taeyong, before the cat was finally able to struggle upright and take a few tentative licks of water. And then a few more. Taeyong poured some more water into the lid, and then pulled a bag of dried meat that he had probably brought as a snack. He fed the meat in little bits to the cat, then gave her some more water, as Jisung watched in awe. 

“She’s so small,” Jisung said, biting at his lip in worry. “I don’t want to leave her out here alone.”

“Then let’s take her with us,” Youngho said gently, kneeling next to Jisung. “She’s small enough to fit in my satchel. We can ask someone to look after her once we reach the Capital, and we can take her back to the castle once we’re done with our agenda.”

“I’m not sure if Jisung will be allowed to—”

“He’s the Crown Prince, he can do whatever he wants,” Youngho cuts Taeyong off, though not unkindly. 

“Oh, Taeyong,” Jaehyun said, and Taeyong whirled around to face him. “You, um. You called…”

“Fuck,” Taeyong whispered, scrambling to stand up straight. He stretched to his full height, though he was still inches shorter than Jaehyun. “Please, please don’t tell anyone Jaehyun—”

“I won’t,” Jaehyun cut him off before he could continue. “I mean, if His Highness is okay with it, then it’s none of my business.”

“I am the one who ordered him to call me by name,” Jisung said a little snottily. “He has been by my side for six years. He is family to me.”

“I know all about family,” Jaehyun said, looking at Youngho, who was distracted by the cat that had finally gained the strength to walk, albeit wobbly on its paws. Jisung’s jaw dropped as the tips of Jaehyun’s ears went red. He looked at Taeyong, who was now crouched over the cat next to Youngho, then to his bodyguard who had one hand holding Taeyong’s to keep him from falling over in the dirt, then to Jaehyun who was watching them both with a fond smile on his face.

“Oh my god,” Jisung muttered under his breath. “I’m witnessing a love triangle in the making.” He should tell this story to the bards, they would enjoy spinning it into an entertaining tale that Jisung would be more than happy to watch.

“Be careful!” Taeyong exclaimed, breaking Jisung out of his thoughts. He looked to see Youngho gently lifting the cat, barely the size of his palms. Taeyong didn’t need to worry, the cat seemed more than content to curl up in Youngho’s hands. She was so sweet for a wild thing, and Jisung knew that he had to keep her. It would be fine—he would just keep her in his suite. 

“You should name her, Your Highness,” Youngho suggested, holding up the tiny cat who meowed in Jisung’s face, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 

“I’ll name her Binru,” Jisung declared, thinking of the stuffed toy that Taeyong kept on his bed in his tiny, one bedroom apartment he was given in the castle. And when Taeyong turned to him with tears in his eyes, he knew he had made the right decision. “Taeyong, would you mind being her primary caretaker?”

Taeyong bowed. “Of course not, Your Highness.”

Binru, it seemed, was more than happy to climb into Youngho’s satchel, poking her head out to watch the world as they rode on. She didn’t seem to be afraid of the horses or the bumpy travel at all. Jisung was already so very fond of her, and he knew she was just what Taeyong needed.

Besides, having a pet might make his suite feel less empty.

The rest of the ride into the Capital was filled with Jisung detailing exactly what he was going to purchase for Binru. He planned to buy a scratch post, some toys, and as many treats as he could find. Occasionally, Binru would meow enthusiastically, but it was barely heard over the clomping of hooves on the dirt path.

When they approached the southern gates of the Capital, Youngho descended from his horse and led them towards the entrance, with Jaehyun guarding their backs.

Youngho, Taeyong, and Jaehyun pull out their identification keys, crystal tags with their names and positions engraved on them, to show the city guards at the entrance. One burly, elder guard stepped forward and made a big show of examining them. He nodded after a moment, then turned to Jisung who was still on his horse.

“Well?” The guard said, his tone brisk and hostile. Taken aback, Jisung just stared at him. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Your ID, please,” the guard said impatiently, tapping his foot. 

Jisung was frozen in shock. Was this guard an idiot, or did he have a death wish? Out of the corner of his eye he could see Taeyong getting visibly angry, while Youngho and Jaehyun had their mouths hanging open. Jisung bristled at the _audacity_ of this insolent guard, but he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Tell me, sir,” Jisung spoke calmly, though fury coloured his tone. He unsheathed his sword and showed off the Royal Family crest, glinting in the sunlight. “Do you desire to keep your job?”

He savoured the way the guard paled as he caught sight of the crest, only beared by members of the Royal Family. And if it wasn’t the King, or the Queen, then Jisung could only be--

“Your Highness, I am so sorry,” the guard stammered, backing away though Jisung had already sheathed his sword. _What a coward_ , Jisung almost snorted. If it were his parents, the guard wouldn’t just be fired, he would be banished from the city, or maybe even the kingdom. Lucky for him, Jisung was merciful, and they didn’t have an audience, so he wasn’t expected to punish the guard. Taeyong was clearly itching to smack him, but Jisung gracefully leapt down from his horse and stepped closer to the guard.

“You’re lucky I am not the Queen nor the King, or your tongue would have been cut out of your mouth,” Jisung said casually, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The guard’s eyes went wide with fear. “But I will allow you to keep your tongue, and your job. But I must ask, sire. Do you not recognize your Crown Prince?”

“His eyesight is not good!” One of the other guards blurted out. “Your Highness is dressed in civilian clothing, he did not recognize you!”

“Watch your mouth,” Taeyong hissed, jumping down from his horse too, albeit less gracefully than Jisung. “Who allowed you to speak out of turn?”

“It’s alright, Taeyong,” Jisung said, holding up a hand. He beckoned the young guard to come closer, and he did, though he looked terrified. Jisung’s lips quirked up into a smile despite himself. “What’s your name?”

“H-Hyunjin, Your Highness,” the city guard said with a bow. “I apologize for speaking out of turn but--”

“Have you been a guard for long?” Jisung asked, cutting him off. 

“N-Not long, Your Highness, just a week. But I—”

“Ah, but you are willing to defend your fellow colleagues at risk of getting killed? Or worse?” Jisung wanted to know. Fear flashed across the boy’s — for he could not be considered a man — face. Jisung didn’t want to scare him, but he wondered if the boy knew how dangerous of a game he was playing.

Hyunjin’s face whitened. “I-I. Um. I just…” 

“You’re not in trouble,” Jisung reassured him softly. “I just want to know _why._ ”

“Because, because. Um. Uncle Jongho has k-kids and he needs to—” Hyunjin took a deep breath. “To send them to school and he can’t if he loses his job.”

Jisung looked at Hyunjin, and imagined he was a boy who once wanted to go to school, but was probably forced to work in order to support his family. He was definitely much too young to be working as a city guard, but then again, they had boys even younger training to be knights. He couldn’t blame a family for doing what was needed to survive.

“Thank you for telling me,” Jisung said softly. He extracted a few gold coins from his purse and pressed it into the young guard’s hand, then turned to the other guard. “As for you, I’ll let you off the hook with a warning. Know your place as a guard.”

“I apologize, Your Highness,” the guard, Jongho, said quickly with a deep bow. “I am truly sorry, and I will make sure to never do it again.” 

Jisung eyed the man distastefully. He doubted he could really trust the man, but he also knew that Jongho would take care to never forget his face again. So with a dismissal wave, he ordered the city guards to open the gate and finally entered the Capital.

They first dropped off Binru at the animal doctor’s office for her to be cleaned, neutered, and examined for injuries. She seemed sad when they left, and Jisung could see that Taeyong so desperately wanted to stay behind. He almost let him, worried about his newfound pet, but eventually Youngho managed to convince Taeyong to leave. 

After leaving the horses at a nearby inn’s stables, it was nearly time for Jisung’s event to take place. From noon until sixth bell, Jisung would have to sit and allow people to touch his hand and try to untie the string.

His royal duty was starting to become a royal pain in the ass.

“Is there anything you want to do before we begin?” Taeyong asked sympathetically. He had begun to relax more, now that he knew neither Youngho nor Jaehyun would rat him out for being informal with the prince. 

“Let’s stop at the market on our way,” Jisung declared rather than suggested. Taeyong opened his mouth, but Jisung just brushed past him with Youngho and Jaehyun on either side of him. They kept one hand on their swords as they walked, and Jisung felt assured enough to relax completely, trusting his bodyguard and knight to protect him. His own sword was a weight dragging him down, but he never walked outside the castle walls without it. Even Taeyong, who was just his attendant, had a sword at his side and a dagger strapped to his thigh. Jisung lifted his hand to his face and fingered the scar running across the bridge of his nose. There were no chances to be taken today.

The decorated stalls and colourful tents were easy to spot, and though the paths were crowded, people easily parted once they saw the prince. Jisung waved and greeted everyone who recognized him, thanking them for coming out for the festival. He stopped at one of the booths for lemonade and chatted with the owner behind the counter. 

After wandering through the stalls and purchasing whatever trinkets caught his eye, Jisung almost decided to just head to town square early for the untying when he came to a halt at one of the smaller stalls. It was brimming with baskets of fresh fruit that looked almost too good to be real. There were peaches and plums the size of Jisung’s palm, and an assortment of berries sorted into woven baskets. The bright, vivid colours and glossy sheen of each fruit made Jisung’s mouth water.

“Hi, can I help you?”

Jisung tore his gaze away from the fruit to see a tall, tanned boy standing with a crate of golden pears between his hands. Jisung’s eyes trailed from large hands to toned forearms, traveling up to the boy’s face. He almost choked when he caught sight of a dazzling smile, honey-brown eyes and soft-looking chestnut hair. 

Jisung had seen many attractive people in his life. There was Taeyong, for one. Jaehyun and Youngho. Many of the other knights, servants, and townspeople. But there was something about this human that seemed almost too good to be true. Jisung found beauty in the slope of his nose, the flush to his cheeks, the curve of his throat. His own throat felt dry, as if he hadn’t just consumed a tall glass of lemonade.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Your Highness, I didn’t recognize you. I meant no disrespect,” the seller said, bowing lowly despite the crate of fruit in his hands. He finally placed them down on a wooden table next to a crate full of shiny red apples. Jisung’s eyes widened when he took in the appearance of his favourite fruit. 

“Th-those apples,” Jisung stuttered, pointing without meaning to. They just looked _so_ good, and Jisung eagered to sink his teeth into one. He’d never seen apples so large and perfect. Even the apples they grew in the royal orchard didn’t look as appetizing. “You grew them yourself?”

“Yes!” The seller beamed. Jisung blinked owlishly, stunned. He had never seen a person with so many teeth before. And they were so nice. “I grow them in my farm just on the outskirts of the Capital, and I bring them to the city to sell.”

“They’re beautiful,” Jisung said, and he heard Taeyong snicker quietly behind him. Sighing loudly, he whirled around to face his attendant, who was whistling and looking anywhere but him, an innocent expression plastered on his face. Even Youngho and Jaehyun were struggling to hide their amusement. Ignoring them, Jisung turned back to the pretty stall owner. “I’ve never seen apples so brightly coloured.”

“I don’t use any repellents, it seems to help,” the seller said with a shrug. “Would you like to try some?”

“Yes, please.” Jisung swallowed harshly as the boy pulled a small switchblade out of his pocket, flipping it open with a snap of his wrist. He selected an apple from the crate and sliced into it delicately, offering a piece to Jisung. The prince took the slice carefully with trembling fingers. If the boy noticed he was shaking, he didn’t comment as Jisung brought the fruit to his lips. Biting into the apple, he almost gasped as a sweet, tangy flavour burst on his tongue. It wasn’t sickly sweet like the toffees and caramels he pinched from the kitchen from time to time, but it was the perfect amount. The apple was crisp and juicy, and Jisung habitually reached for more without thinking. Laughing, the seller handed over the rest of the fruit.

“May I try?”

Jisung turned around, reaching to hand Taeyong the fruit before the seller stopped him, instead selecting another apple to give to his attendant.

“Oh, let me pay you,” Jisung said, reaching for his coin purse. Taeyong very visibly facepalmed and Jisung paused in his tracks, smiling sheepishly. A prince wasn’t supposed to offer or request, only command, but Jisung wasn’t much of a prince anyway. He knew Taeyong also hated to enforce those rules, but he would get in trouble if Jisung didn’t remember. “Um, I mean. Take this coin in payment.”

“They’re samples! I give them to all my customers,” the boy said before Jisung could give him a single coin. 

Jaehyun lit up. “May I try a peach?”

The boy laughed and grabbed one from a crate, handing it to Jisung’s knight with another beautiful smile. Jisung flushed and looked away as Jaehyun happily sank his teeth into the gold and red fruit.

“Cannibalism,” Youngho murmured. Jisung didn’t understand and wondered if he had heard right, but didn’t want to ask, for he feared the answer.

“This is so good,” Jaehyun said happily, finishing off the fruit within moments. Juice dripped down his chin before he could wipe it away. Jisung caught Taeyong staring and nearly barfed at the feral look in his attendant’s eyes. 

“I want to buy your full stock of apples and one crate of peaches,” Jisung said to the seller, whose eyes widen in shock. He looked so cute that Jisung wanted to throw a tantrum, but he tamped down the urge that flared up. “What’s your name?”

“Jaemin,” the seller replied, frozen. Taeyong snickered again, and Jisung threw him a pointed glare. 

“Jaemin, can you have these brought up to the castle after the festival ends?” Jisung asked, already counting out coins. 

“I—Of course, Your Highness,” Jaemin answered. Jisung paused to look at him again, and found he still hadn’t moved. Smiling to himself, he pressed twenty gold coins into Jaemin’s palm, most definitely more than the fruits were worth, and closed his fingers around the money. 

“Your Highness, the untying will begin soon,” Taeyong warned, and Jisung let go of Jaemin’s hand.

“I must take my leave now,” Jisung said sadly, and he wondered if he was imagining the disappointment that flickered across Jaemin’s face. “It is time for my event to take place. Will you still be here this evening?”

“Yes,” Jaemin said roughly, then cleared his throat. A pretty flush spread across his cheeks and Jisung stared, fascinated. “I mean, yes, I usually pack up at eighth bell.”

“I’ll stop by, then,” Jisung said as he stepped out from under the tent and back into the sunlight, squinting in the harsh light. He nodded to Taeyong, Youngho, and Jaehyun. “Let’s go.”

“W-Wait, Your Highness!” Jaemin called after them. “This is too much for just some fruit.”

But Jisung just waved, laughing to himself as they headed for the center of the Capital. 

It had been four hours, and Jisung wanted to go home. 

His ass was aching from being seated for four hours straight, and his neck prickled with heat. To be fair, they had clearly tried to make him comfortable, setting up a large, colourful tent to shield his chair from the sun. There was plenty of water, wine, food, and other offerings given to him by those who have tried to untie the string. None of them have succeeded, and Jisung was ready to beg the Gods for his soulmate to show up, because there was no way he was gonna do this again next year.

When greasy-looking older men approached, he wanted to throw up. He was thankful they were forced by Taeyong to wash their hands, but he still shuddered when they grabbed at his skin. He felt like every civilian in the Capital had come to attempt to untie the string except for one.

No matter how much he craned his neck, he couldn’t see Jaemin in the line of faces waiting for their turn. 

Jisung smiled at a young girl who attempted to untie the string but to no avail. Her shoulders slumped as she walked away, her aura radiating disappointment. He noticed that many lower class citizens were lining up, probably hoping to be the one to become part of the Royal Family. There were greedy upper class citizens and noblemen, who seemed to think that the more extravagant their offering, the likelier their chances of untying the string. This did not matter to Jisung, who was just happy to receive presents. And it certainly didn’t matter to the string.

As the day drew closer and closer to the sixth bell, Jisung was beginning to lose hope. He would have to come back next year and do this all over again. And again. And again until his soulmate was found. What if his soulmate wasn’t even in Syrerun? Jisung didn’t even care for true love — he had a kingdom to run. He was going to be the king, true love or not.

“Do you want more water?” Taeyong offered, sensing Jisung’s frustration. Jisung wasn’t really thirsty, but he did want a break, so he accepted the jar eagerly. He felt even more appreciative of Youngho and Jaehyun who were still clad in heavy armour, because the heat was so intense, Jisung felt like he was going to pass out.

He’d always been a little delicate. Despite his strength and size, he was rarely outdoors these days, most of his time spent filling out paperwork or meeting with advisors. He daydreamed about going to the beach or climbing a waterfall as more and more people continued to try and untie his string. He knew he would be scolded for not paying attention if his parents were here, but he didn’t care. With Youngho and Taeyong on either side of him, and Jaehyun standing at the end of the stage, Jisung felt perfectly safe. He trusted his guards more than anything. 

Finally, sixth bell came, and the civilians weren’t the only ones going home disappointed. Jisung sighed as he finally stood up, stretching out his back as Youngho and Jaehyun cleared the area. 

“Are you disappointed that you didn’t find your soulmate?” Taeyong asked curiously.

Jisung reached for a grape and popped it into his mouth. “No, I don’t really believe in soulmates.”

“You don’t?” Taeyong asked, taken aback.

“I mean, I think that they exist, I just think that there’s no such thing as one perfect person that’s meant to be with you. I think you can love more than one person, and I think you don’t need to love at all in order to be happy,” Jisung said, pulling another grape off the vine. Taeyong looked at him, then looked at Youngho and Jaehyun who were chasing each other around town square.

“I think you’re right,” Taeyong said quietly. “You’re very wise for your age, Jisung.”

“You mean I’m wise for a spoiled brat who’s had everything handed to him?”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Taeyong shot back, and Jisung burst into a fit of laughter that had tears springing to his eyes. He leaned on Taeyong for support and wiped at his eyes, and when he finally calmed down he saw Youngho and Jaehyun smiling fondly at the two of them, and he felt like he had true love with him all along. “Do you wanna go back to that fruit stall now?”

“Mhm,” Jisung said as the mayor finally returned. He ordered for the offerings to be delivered to the castle, and thanked the mayor for his time. He made sure to give a gold coin to each of the workers clearing the chair, tent, and stage away. He asked one of the mayor’s assistants to retrieve Binru from the vet’s, and she returned before he could even leave town square, too busy discussing the new gate being built at the East entrance with Mayor Seo.

“Binnie, baby!” Taeyong squealed, taking the carrier she was in from the mayor’s assistant before Jisung could even get close. He pulled the cat out from the carrier and Jisung almost believed it was a different cat. Binru’s fur had a glossy sheen to it, and she looked much happier and healthier after a proper meal and rest. Taeyong lifted her up high and pressed their noses together, and Binru happily batted at his cheek.

“God, I wish I was a cat,” he thought he heard Jaehyun murmur, but when he turned around, the knight was talking to Youngho and not even looking in Taeyong’s direction. 

It took them a while, but they finally managed to convince Taeyong to let go of Binru long enough for her to go back into the carrier, and departed from town square to head for the market again. Jisung was itching to see Jaemin, and he hoped that he hadn’t packed up for the night already.

Luckily, Jaemin was still there, selling small cartons of strawberries to two young girls. Jisung watched in awe when he winked at them and they giggled and blushed, running off with the berries in their hands. 

“Jaemin!” Jisung shouted, pushing past Youngho and Taeyong to run up to the stall. Jaemin looked up, startled, but he broke out into a dazzling smile when he locked eyes with Jisung.

“Your Highness, please don’t—“

But Jisung was already gone, running up to Jaemin’s side. “You’re packing up?”

Jaemin had sold most of his fruits, save for a couple crates of pears, a few cartons of berries, and half a crate of apples. He was currently folding up a small stool, but it seemed like the locking mechanism was stuck.

“Yeah!” Jaemin grinned, struggling with the lock. Jisung reached over and flipped up the latch, allowing the stool to collapse. “Oh, thank you, Your Highness. How was the Untying?”

“No luck,” Jisung sighed, waving his hand to show off the string still tied to his pinky. He watched as Jaemin’s eyes travelled to the string, and dug his teeth into his lip. _Ask me to untie it. Ask me to untie it. Ask me to untie it._ He almost wanted to grab Jaemin’s hand and place it on his own.

But Jaemin just looked away, putting the stool on a wagon stacked with crates. It was one meant to be pulled by a horse, but he didn’t see anywhere Jaemin could be keeping a horse nearby.

“Do you have a horse to pull that?” Jisung asked curiously, pointing to the wagon.

“No, I pull it myself,” Jaemin said. When Jisung just gave him a blank stare, he burst into giggles. “I’m kidding! The innkeeper lets me keep my horse in his stables during the day.”

“Oh.” Jisung blinked. “Eloana’s Inn?”

Jaemin beamed. “Yeah, you know it?”

“That’s where we left our horses too!” Jisung exclaimed. 

“Jaemin, maybe you can walk with us to the inn. That way you can journey with us to the castle to drop off Jisung’s order,” Taeyong suggested, coming to stand beside Jisung. The prince turned to him, mouth dropping open in shock when Taeyong winked. His cheeks burned furiously, but he clamped down on his protest when Jaemin happily agreed. 

“I’ve never been to the castle, so I’d be glad to have you show me the way,” Jaemin said.

Jisung blinked in surprise. “Never been? Not even for the Festival?”

Jaemin shook his head as he tied knots in the ropes holding his cargo together. “I’m either here at the market or working in my orchards. I never really have time to partake in the festivities.”

Jisung knew, probably better than anyone else, what it was like to be bound by your own duties and responsibilities, but he still felt a pang of sympathy for Jaemin, who didn’t look much older than him and yet still had so much weight to carry on his shoulders. The Syrerun Summer Festival was one of the happiest times of the year. He knew he was privileged, but even most of the working class participated in the activities at least one day of the week. It saddened him that some could not even afford one day off.

“Jaemin, I’m very curious about running a market stall,” Taeyong said as they began walking towards the inn. “What would you say is your monthly income?”

Jisung shot Taeyong a sharp look — _what business did they have prying into Jaemin’s income?_ But Jaemin didn’t seem to mind the question at all. 

“I would say around four thousand gold,” Jaemin answered. Jisung, stunned, tripped over a loose cobblestone, and if it wasn’t for Jaehyun catching him by the arm, he would have fallen flat on his face. _All that work for only four thousand gold a month?_

Four thousand gold as a monthly income was sustainable for a single person working as a housemaid, but not for someone like Jaemin who practically owned an entire orchard. The cost of tools alone and possible hired labour surely totaled at least a third of his income, with the other third going towards rent. How could one person sustain himself on only thirteen hundred gold of disposable income per month?

“Do you grow your fruits by yourself?” Youngho asked curiously, adjusting his grip on the cat carrier. Jisung’s hands twitched with the need to pull Binru out of the carrier and snuggle her, but decided she would fare better in the shade.

“My younger sister helps me with harvesting, but yeah it’s mostly me!” Jaemin answered. His cheerful demeanor never faded, and Jisung wondered if it was a front or if Jaemin really was this happy. But he couldn’t imagine faking a smile for hours on end, and he believed Jaemin was genuine in character. Jaemin seemed to notice him staring, and directed that blinding smile towards him. Jisung faltered, a blush spreading high on his cheeks as he ducked behind Jaehyun. 

Jisung used to be distrustful of happy-go-lucky people. Most cheer in the castle was forced, mostly because the noblemen were all ass-kissers and the staff were too busy for cheer despite Jisung’s attempts of relaxing their duties. They all plastered on smiles whenever he walked past, but it never reached their eyes.

But Jaemin… oh, Jisung had never seen a smile as bright and true as Jaemin’s. He was infatuated, he had to admit. Jaemin was gorgeous, especially now as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Jaemin’s features as he chatted with Taeyong about being a market seller. And he was so sweet to Jisung. 

Jisung hesitated. Could it be that Jaemin was only kind to him because he was a prince? What if he didn’t like Jisung’s character at all?

 _Don’t be ridiculous,_ Jisung told himself firmly, halting his train of thought. _He doesn’t_ know _your character. He’s hardly known you for more than a few hours._

But he still couldn’t help feeling anxious as they approached the inn. Taeyong sent a staff member to fetch their horses, including Jaemin’s. Youngho and Jaehyun wandered over to speak with the blacksmith across the path, and Jaemin sat on one of the wooden benches to fix the lacing of his boot. After a moment of hesitation, Jisung sat next to him, staring up at the sky painted with deep reds and oranges

“Oh wow!” Jaemin exclaimed softly, and when Jisung tilted his head back down, he saw Jaemin pointing at a bird a few feet away. It had bright blue plumage except for a brown and white underbelly and dark tail feathers.

“What a pretty songbird,” Jisung murmured. He reached out a hand as the bird hopped forward, and made a soft kissing noise to coax it towards him. The bird chirped and fluttered its wings, lifting itself from the ground to fly up and perch on Jisung’s extended index finger. Jisung held his breath as it stayed for a minute, tilting its head curiously before chirping again and taking off. Jisung watched it fly, and when he turned his head, Jaemin was staring at him, his mouth hanging open. Jisung hated that he still found him attractive. 

“I can’t believe you just did that?!” Jaemin said, his voice still hushed as if the bird was still perched on Jisung’s finger rather than soaring in the sky above their heads. “Y-You didn’t have any seeds or anything, so how?”

“Um, I dunno,” Jisung replied awkwardly, flushing. “Animals always come to me.”

“Animals? So not just birds?” 

Jisung shook his head. “Sometimes deer in the forest but only the young ones. Um, farm animals. Horses. Birds. And cats.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up. “I _love_ cats!”

“Me too!” Jisung said immediately. He pointed at Youngho who was still carrying Binru. “We rescued a cat today and we’re taking her back to the castle. Her name is Binru. Do you want to see?”

“Of course I do!” Jaemin exclaimed, eyes sparkling. Jisung began waving both his hands, calling Youngho’s name. His bodyguard came over immediately, the carrier clutched in his hands.

“Your Highness?” Youngho inquired when he was close enough. 

“Jaemin wants to see Binru,” Jisung told him. “Can you let her out?”

“Of course.” Youngho bowed slightly before kneeling on the ground, seemingly unbothered by the dust that stained his clothing as he opened the carrier, lifting Binru out with one large hand and swiftly depositing her in Jisung’s lap. The kitten blinked up at him sleepily, not bothered by her displacement.

They spent a few minutes petting Binru’s glossy coat, rubbing her soft belly as she batted lightly at their hands, until Taeyong appeared with a staff member from the inn at his heels, four horses behind them. Jaemin scrambled to his feet, cooing at his stallion. Jisung watched as he pulled a peppermint from his pocket and fed it to the horse, softly petting his neck. 

Jaehyun came over to support Jisung as he climbed up on the horse, and they were almost too distracted to hear Taeyong furiously spitting out words of fire as if they were burning his tongue. Jisung whipped his head around to see who his advisor was cursing out and saw Youngho advancing on the inn staff with his sword out of . 

“How dare you touch him,” Youngho snarled, and Jaehyun immediately rounded Jisung’s horse with his own sword drawn. Out of the corner of his eye, Jisung saw Jaemin drawing back. Taeyong didn’t move, standing in front of both Youngho and Jaehyun with his arms crossed. Jisung had to admire the way he showed no fear. He didn’t need Jaehyun and Youngho to back him up but they were there anyway, just in case. Taeyong hadn’t even drawn his own sword, just coldly staring down the man who had allegedly touched him.

 _Let me have him arrested,_ Jisung tried to communicate to Taeyong telepathically. _Let me have him thrown into jail for even daring to lay a finger on you._

But to his surprise, Taeyong let the man run away with his tail between his legs, holding out his hands so Jaehyun and Youngho could not follow. Jisung almost dismounted, but Taeyong turned away before he could do anything. 

“Let’s go,” Taeyong spoke calmly, and though Youngho was shaking with rage, he still allowed Taeyong to lead him over to the horses. Youngho was still holding Binru’s carrier, so Taeyong climbed onto Jaehyun’s horse. Jisung watched him for a moment, but when he didn’t look in Jisung’s direction, he turned to search for Jaemin, who was walking out of the inn. He hadn’t even noticed Jaemin disappear.

The innkeeper came and apologized to Taeyong personally, then apologized to Jisung, who waved him off. He promised that the staff member would promptly be fired, to which Jisung responded with a bitter “ _good_ ” that had Taeyong shooting him a glare. Jisung sighed, straightening his posture on his horse. Somehow Taeyong still managed to do his job as Jisung’s attendant even shaken as he was.

“You should have let me arrest him,” Youngho said quietly once the innkeeper was gone. 

“It wasn’t necessary,” was all Taeyong said in response. He hid his face in Jaehyun’s shoulder signalling the end of the conversation. Jisung was distracted from staring at Jaehyun’s pink cheeks when he heard the clomping of hooves coming up behind him.

“Sorry to leave after all that excitement,” Jaemin said, “but I need to go retrieve my wagon.”

“Of course. We’ll wait for you at the southern gates,” Jisung said, trying his best to sound cool. And with that they separated, though Jisung couldn’t stop himself from craning his neck back to watch Jaemin go. Even though he knew Jaemin had spent more time in the Capital than he had, he was still worried over his well-being. It was getting late, and Jaemin was going alone.

“Should we stop by a tavern for dinner before leaving?” Taeyong said, eyeing the darkening sky with distaste. Jisung stifled a giggle; he was pretty sure if Taeyong could, he would command the sun to stop setting. “It will be late by the time we return to the castle.”

“I think that would be best,” Jaehyun said. “Your Highness?”

“I’m hungry,” Jisung said, though it came out more as a whine. “Let’s ask them to pack a meal for us.”

By the time Jaemin returned, they had a full picnic basket of breads, cheese, and jerky as well as bottles of homemade blueberry milk. Taeyong handed Jisung a bottle and he happily popped open the lid, draining half the bottle with one gulp. Milk dripped messily down his chin, and before Jisung could wipe it with a sleeve Jaemin handed him a handkerchief. Jisung’s handkerchief that was somewhere on his person was probably worth three times the amount, but Jisung got so flustered by Jaemin’s fond smile that he accepted it without thinking, carefully wiping his chin. 

“Shall we head out then?” Youngho asked a few moments later, and they began their journey back to the castle. 

“Would it be possible for you to stay the night, Jaemin? It’s rather late, I’m sure we can find a guest suite for you. It wouldn’t be wise for you to return home by yourself,” Taeyong offered after they had exited the Capital boundaries. Jisung twisted in his saddle to stare at Taeyong in slight dismay, but his attendant ignored him. He really regretted getting rid of their formalities.

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly intrude on such short notice—”

“Nonsense. If you are able to, we would love to have you,” Taeyong insisted, and Jisung could _see_ Jaemin wilt visibly under Taeyong’s unrelenting stare. 

“If it’s no trouble, then I would be honoured to spend the night,” Jaemin acquiesced softly. Jisung mentally cheered, though he was trying to figure out how he could take the picnic basket from Taeyong without him noticing. 

He was tired, blankly staring out at the path ahead of them as Taeyong, Jaehyun and Jaemin chatted behind them while Youngho led the way. He liked the sound of Jaemin’s voice. It was a little louder than he was used to, but his chatter was calming. Jaemin’s voice was a steady soundtrack to the rhythm of the horses’ hooves and it made Jisung sleepy. They took a break to eat and Jisung fell asleep halfway through his bread. 

They ended up rearranging so Jisung and Jaehyun were riding together and Taeyong was perched on Jisung’s horse. He was falling asleep — there was no way he could ride on his own. Jisung curled his arms around Jaehyun’s waist and pillowed his face on Jaehyun’s shoulder. The bumpy ride jostled him from time to time, but he was too tired to care. His body ached from sitting all day, and he desperately wanted a bath for his sore muscles. It was now completely dark, so he shut his eyes, trusting his attendant and his guards to keep watch over him.

He must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes again, they were in front of the castle’s gates. Taeyong was speaking to the guards about Jaemin, and one of the guards took Jaemin’s horse and wagon, promising to take the horse to the stables and deliver the fruit to the kitchen. 

“‘min staying?” Jisung garbled out into Jaehyun’s ear.

“Yes, Jaemin is staying,” Jaehyun replied, sounding amused. “You need help getting down?”

Jisung pondered for a moment. The ground was awfully far away. He nodded and Jaehyun descended from his horse, turning around to help Jisung down. He slumped in Jaehyun’s arms even as the knight looked left and right nervously, not wanting to get caught for touching the prince. Jisung vowed to jail anyone who tried to take away his support system. He wasn’t sure he could stand without Jaehyun’s help.

“Bed,” Jisung grunted.

“Is he gonna be alright?” Jaemin’s voice came from somewhere beside Jisung. He sounded so far away, but Jisung couldn’t make his mouth move and ask him to come closer. 

“He’ll be fine, Youngho and Jaehyun will take him to bed. As for you, may I ask for a moment of your time? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” That was Taeyong. What was he talking about? Jisung tried to lift his head up and his vision swam.

“Oh dear, it appears His Highness has spent too much time under the sun,” Youngho said, and Jisung felt himself being hauled into a new set of arms. He clutched sleepily at Youngho’s armour, and he could hear Jaehyun following closely behind him. He wanted to ask where Jaemin was, but he got distracted when he realized Youngho was heading for a servants’ entrance.

“Where we going?” He slurred out.

“If someone catches me carrying you, we’re dead meat.” Youngho’s chest rumbled with his laugh. It sounded like a purr.

“Binru?” 

“One of the servants has her. She’s fine, don’t worry. We’re gonna get you into bed, okay?” That was Jaehyun. His voice was so soothing.

“M’kay.” Jisung shut his eyes again, throwing one arm around Youngho and tucking his face into his bodyguard’s neck. “M’tired.”

“We’re almost there,” Youngho promised, but Jisung was already fast asleep. 

Jisung woke up in the morning to Taeyong shaking his shoulder. He groaned, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep, but he technically got a day off yesterday and he would have to get back to work. He couldn’t imagine how much paperwork was piled on the desk in his study that he would have to revise, and he was pretty sure he had a meeting with two of the lords from the eastern lands of Syrerun. 

He forced himself to sit up, the silk material of his shirt sliding open. He squinted down at his pajamas then up at Taeyong. His attendant had probably helped him undress last night, but he couldn’t remember anything after he fell asleep in Youngho’s arms.

“Good morning Jisung,” Taeyong greeted as Jisung scrubbed at his eyes with his fists. 

“Morning Taeyong,” Jisung said, coughing to clear his throat when his voice came out low. “Will you be joining me for breakfast today?”

Taeyong gave a long-suffering sigh, but he didn’t protest, so Jisung counted it as a win. 

“You have an urgent letter from Rosorun, then a meeting with the new head gardener at eighth bell, then lunch with the two lords from Acciopia and Wysten at noon. After that you have your Latin lesson, remember today is a two hour lesson rather than a one hour. Then it’s paperwork until dinner and then training in the courtyard.”

“Taeyong, please, I’ve only been awake for two—” Jisung paused. “Wait. New head gardener?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Taeyong’s eyes were sparkling. “Jaemin is signing on as the new head gardener. He looked over the contract today and will be signing it during your meeting.”

“He _what?_

“It would have been a shame to let someone with that kind of a green thumb go to waste. Especially when he was living on such an unsustainable monthly income, you know?” Taeyong spoke casually, but Jisung could hear his teasing undertone. “And besides, I couldn’t let your little crush go now, could I?”

Jisung flushed in embarrassment, sitting up and demanding to be dressed. Taeyong snickered and brought over his outfit for the day. It was much more formal than his civilian clothing yesterday, and Jisung complained about the stuffiness of the fabric and the puffy sleeves, tugging unhappily at the stiff collar while Taeyong laced up his boots.

“No,” Jisung said when Taeyong brought out a crown. He crossed his arms sulkily. “I don’t wanna wear a stupid crown.”

“Jisung, when you are King, the only time you won’t be wearing a crown is when you are asleep. So please, just put this on. I promise it’s much lighter than the other crowns.” It was much simpler too. Jisung sighed and reached for it, placing it sloppily atop his head. He ducked out of Taeyong’s reach before Taeyong could fix it, exiting his bedroom. Youngho was already there, dressed in his armour with his sword at his side. His hair was neatly combed unlike Jisung’s bird nest. Jisung scowled, sitting down at the table. 

“Good morning, Your Highness.” It was a new servant today, a boy named Jeongin. He placed an enormous tray in the center of the table, then transferred two pitchers from the cart he had wheeled in. “The chefs have prepared fried eggs, honey toast and turkey sausages for your breakfast. I hope it is to your liking.”

Jisung giggled at how Jeongin was doing his best to sound like Rosalie. Once the servant had disappeared, he turned to Youngho.

“Do you think you could retrieve Jaehyun? I’d like him to join us for breakfast too.” 

“Of course, Your Highness,” his bodyguard said with a bow. He exited the room and returned only a minute later with Jaehyun in tow. Jisung raised an eyebrow in surprise. The knights’ quarters were on a different floor of the castle. In fact, the only other bedroom besides Taeyong’s was Youngho’s room. _Interesting…_

Jaehyun looked sleepy, dressed in casual clothing since he was off-duty, though he straightened up when he caught sight of Taeyong. He sat down opposite of Jisung while Youngho sat across from Taeyong. They began discussing something about the knights’ training regiment, but Jisung tuned them out in favour of devouring his eggs. He reached for a pitcher of grape juice and paused when he noticed Taeyong’s shirt. It had been rolled up several times but still fell slightly past his wrist. Jisung looked down and noticed that, although it had been tucked into Taeyong’s pants, it billowed at his waist. Furthermore, when Taeyong brought a napkin up to his mouth, Jisung spotted _YHS_ engraved in his cufflinks, and those were certainly _not_ his initials. And come to think of it…the silver jewelry in Jaehyun’s ears looked awfully similar to the earrings Taeyong was wearing yesterday.

“Ah,” Jisung muttered to himself. “So that’s how it is.”

“Sorry, did you say something Your Highness?” Youngho asked.

Jisung shook his head. “No, not at all.” He turned to Taeyong. “Do you have the letter from Rosorun? I’d like to read it now.”

“You shouldn’t work through breakfast,” Taeyong scolded, but he reached into his satchel and pulled out an envelope, handing it to Jisung with a sigh. Jisung accepted the letter, breaking open the seal and pulling out the parchment inside. 

“It appears that Rosorun is suffering from great droughts,” Jisung announced to the table. “The Second Prince is requesting relief aid from Syrerun.”

Youngho and Jaehyun looked stricken, and Jisung felt a pang of guilt when he realized that the knights before him were from Rosorun. He could see Taeyong reaching over to pat their hands, and wished he had the courage to do the same.

“I’ll have to arrange a meeting with my father later this evening, but I’ll make sure we send aid as fast as possible. And,” Jisung added, “if you would like to send more to your families, I will make sure it gets them quickly. If you would like some time off, I could arrange for that as well.”

“Thank you, Your Highness, but we’ll be fine,” Youngho declined, and Jaehyun nodded. “It’s not like we can bring rain to the crops. We’d be better off here.”

“Then I’ll be increasing your salary,” Jisung said, and before they could protest, he continued, “and need I remind you that I’m the Crown Prince and you’re not allowed to say no~”

“Brat,” Taeyong muttered, but he was grinning into his cup. Jisung offered his two knights a bright smile before going back to his breakfast, spearing a piece of toast with his fork. He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried for the citizens of Rosorun. Drought led to famish, and Rosorun was not a rich kingdom in the first place. Most of the civilians would have finished their winter stock now, and those who didn’t own animals would probably starve. He mentally went through the inventory of their food stores, wondering what he could send while still having enough to feed his own people. Rosorun wasn’t so far away that the bad weather wouldn’t reach Syrerun, but so far despite the increased temperatures they had been getting steady rainfall. He figured the best person to ask about the harvest season would be Jaemin. He made a mental note to consult Jaemin about the situation before finishing off the rest of his breakfast. 

“Can you help me fix my hair?” Jisung asked Taeyong, who abandoned his breakfast to follow Jisung into his bedroom. Jisung sat in front of the mirror as Taeyong removed his crown, picking up a brush to remove the tangles. 

“Hoping to impress Jaemin?” Taeyong teased. Jisung glowered daggers at Taeyong’s reflection, and opened his mouth to snap a malicious comment about Taeyong’s wardrobe choice today, but decided against it. He didn’t want to ruin any progress Taeyong had made with Youngho and Jaehyun, whatever progress that may be.

“Do I really gotta wear the crown?” Jisung asked, pouting. Taeyong picked it up from the dresser and placed it atop Jisung’s head, much nicer than Jisung had earlier this morning. 

“Unfortunately, Jisung,” Taeyong said, “a crown prince needs to wear a crown.”

“I don’t wanna be a prince,” Jisung confessed in a tiny whisper. His secrets that he kept under lock and key, he knew he could trust Taeyong with them. Taeyong who had always been by his side.

“I know.” Taeyong smiled sadly, his hands cupping Jisung’s face and his thumbs gently rubbing the scar that crossed his face. “But one day, Jisung, you will be King.”

“Will you still stand by my side when I am King?”

“Of course,” Taeyong said, letting go of Jisung’s face. “You will make a great King, Jisung.”

Jisung stood up from the stool and threw himself into Taeyong’s arms. “I love you, Taeyong.”

Taeyong inhaled sharply, frozen in shock, but eventually he placed his arms around Jisung. He had always felt comforted in Taeyong’s presence but this was much, much nicer. He thought his childhood would have been better if he had done this from the start. Where there were cold shoulders and icy gazes in the form of his parents, he had always felt nothing but warmth with Taeyong. “I love you too, Jisung. Now will you please go to your study? You have a meeting with Jaemin and you need to review his contract before he gets there.”

“God, I can’t believe you did this. I can’t believe he agreed to this.”

“We’ll be paying him double his monthly income and all tools will be provided. Plus he’ll have a whole team of gardeners working for him. I think we’ll expand the orchards in preparation for the upcoming winter.” 

“When I am King,” Jisung said seriously, “you will be appointed as my Royal Advisor.”

“I look forward to it. Now go or you’ll be late. What kind of King isn’t punctual?”

“My father when it comes to my birthday celebrations,” Jisung joked, but he exited the bedroom upon Taeyong’s insistence. Youngho and Jaehyun had already called a servant to clear away their plates, and Youngho was getting ready to leave. He was smiling so softly at Jaehyun that Jisung felt like an intruder.

“I’ll wait in your rooms when you’re finished,” he overheard Jaehyun murmur to Youngho before swiftly departing the suite. Youngho adjusted the straps of his arm guard, turning around when he heard Jisung’s footsteps. His bodyguard, always so attentive.

“I’ll be going to my study now. I’m sorry you’ll probably just be standing around today,” Jisung said with an apologetic smile. 

“It’s my job, Your Highness,” Youngho said kindly, and when Taeyong came to join them, he escorted Jisung down the hall and up the west wing stairs to his study. Jisung didn’t like being trapped inside, but his study was one of his favourite rooms of the castle. He had made sure it was completely to his liking so he would be able to tolerate hours of deskwork. There were large windows that took up the entire back wall behind his desk, and in front of them a window bench that Jisung often napped on when he worked through the night. He was surrounded by bookshelves lined with his favourite research textbooks with the occasional trinket from the markets. His desk was polished Russian birch wood, and it made Jisung feel fancy when he sat behind it.

He sat down in the high-backed chair made by one of the Capital artisans, struggling to pull himself closer to the desk until Youngho came and pushed his chair in. Taeyong dropped a familiar folder in front of Jisung, stamped with the Royal Family crest. It was the same employment contract Jisung had offered to countless people before, but this time he carefully read through every page.

“There’s a clause here that allows him to terminate his employment in the event of an emergency.” Jisung pointed out the paragraph on the thirteenth page. “Why’s that?”

“His mother is ill,” Taeyong explained, “and while his sister is able to take care of her in the meantime, Jaemin said he may have to leave for weeks at a time.”

“Then let’s also write in that he will be permitted to come back at any time. We’re not monsters, we can’t separate a man from his mother,” Jisung said, already reaching for his quill. He penned the letters carefully, blowing lightly at the ink until it was matte. Not seconds later, there was a knock on his door.

“Come in,” Jisung called as Taeyong stood behind his chair. The door opened to reveal first a knight clad in armour and… Jaemin. He must have gone home before the sun rose, because he was dressed in different clothes from yesterday. His clothes were made of cheap fabric, but he somehow made them look like the finest silks. Jisung could feel his cheeks heating up as he took in Jaemin’s bright smile, so cheery despite the circles under his eyes from his early start. 

“Your Highness, Jaemin Na is here to see you.”

_Jaemin Na._

“Send him in. Thank you, Doyoung,” Jisung said, and the knight nodded, gesturing for Jaemin to enter and closing the door behind him. “Good morning Jaemin.”

“Good morning, Your Highness,” Jaemin replied, and Jisung felt himself flushing harder. He pinched his arm under the desk as Youngho brought a chair for Jaemin, who settled in comfortably right across from Jisung. He was so close, Jisung could see every lash that fanned across Jaemin’s cheeks when he blinked. Jaemin had really long lashes—

“—Your Highness. Your Highness?” He jolted out of his daze when Taeyong subtly kicked the back of his chair. Heat rose to his cheeks until he was sure his face was as red as Jaemin’s apples. 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung rushed to say. “I have not slept enough, I think.”

“It’s quite alright,” Jaemin chuckled. “You were very tired last night.”

Embarrassed, Jisung recalled the way he fell asleep in Youngho’s arms, and he almost smacked his hand to his forehead if it wasn’t for the way Jaemin was staring. He was _always_ staring at Jisung, his eyes twinkling as if he could read into Jisung’s soul. Jaemin was actually kind of terrifying. Maybe he didn’t want Jaemin to untie his string after all.

 _His string._ He’d almost forgotten about it, subtly glancing at his pinky. It felt warm, but it was probably because his hands were sweating. He carefully lowered his hands below the desk to wipe them on the dark blue fabric of his pants. He felt Taeyong kick his chair again in warning. 

“Ahem,” Jisung cleared his throat. “So, shall we review the contract? I added to the clause here on page thirteen that will allow you to come back at any time so we don’t need to draw up another contract if you were to return, but otherwise I believe it is the same as the copy you were given.”

“I had a question about the salary,” Jaemin said quietly. 

Jisung paused. “Is it not to your liking?” He thought it was fair, but considering they were recruiting him right before the fall harvest, he understood why Jaemin might think it inadequate. Considering they were expanding the orchards and filling the stores for the upcoming winter season, and Jaemin would be managing a team of twenty to thirty gardeners, perhaps it was better to increase his monthly salary.

“Isn’t it too much for just a gardener?” Jaemin asked.

Jisung blinked. “I’m sorry, it appears there’s been a miscommunication of your duties. May I see your contract?”

“Of course.” Jaemin rummaged around in his satchel. It was made of rough canvas instead of smooth leather, and Jisung eyed it with distaste. He was going to gift Jaemin a nice satchel and some better clothes. Sometimes, being a prince was nice, because people weren’t allowed to refuse his gifts. “Here it is.”

Jisung could already tell by the colour of the folder that it was the wrong employment contract. He sighed irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Taeyong, who gave Jaemin the contract?”

“Sungjin, Your Highness,” Taeyong answered dutifully from behind him.

Jisung exhaled exasperatedly, rubbing his temples. He could feel a migraine coming on. “Jaemin, my apologies, there’s been a misunderstanding. _This_ contract outlines all your duties, and this is what you were supposed to be given a copy of. If you’d like to take this and review it, we can meet again tomorrow.”

“I trust you,” Jaemin said easily. “Where do I sign?”

Jisung stared in shock. Even Taeyong behind him was frozen, completely stunned. 

“Uhh right here, and on page seventeen. And your initials here,” Jisung instructed, handing Jaemin a quill. Jaemin signed the contract with a flourish, and Jisung almost wanted to giggle in excitement. Jaemin was officially a member of the castle. Jisung was going to have an _unlimited_ supply of those amazing apples. “You will be meeting with one of my advisors today and they will show you your living quarters. We will also be able to send couriers for whatever you need from your home. You will be given an upfront payment today and your monthly salary will be on the sixth of every month. Should you have any questions,” he snapped the folder shut, “feel free to ask me.”

Jisung gave himself a mental pat on the back as they stood from their chairs, pleased with his own professional composure. He rounded the desk with his hand outstretched to shake Jaemin’s.

“It is a pleasure to have you on board with us,” Jisung said with a smile.

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” Jaemin replied, reaching out to shake Jisung’s hands. The second their hands made contact, Jisung yelped as white hot pain lanced through his arm. He ripped his hand from Jaemin’s, hypersensitive to the way Jaemin’s thumb slid along his pinky and Jisung’s jaw hit the floor when the string that had been tied to his pinky for eighteen years unravelled and fell unceremoniously to the ground.

“You…” Jaemin began, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“I think I’m going to faint,” Jisung said in reply. He couldn’t stop staring at the string on the floor. His pinky looked so bare without it.

“Your Highness, please sit down.” Taeyong’s voice came from behind him, sounding alarmed. A moment later he felt gentle hands guiding him back to his chair. He fell into it, eyes wide in shock. He had fantasized about Jaemin untying the string yesterday, but it had been nothing more than a daydream to cope with the complete and utter boredom he was feeling. He had never imagined… that Jaemin was actually his soulmate.

“So what does this mean?” Jaemin asked, and when Jisung looked at him, he was being directed to sit down by Youngho who had come over from his position next to the door. He looked just as shaken as Jisung, his face pale. 

Jisung looked at Taeyong helplessly, unable to answer, and Taeyong stepped up next to his chair. He swept Jaemin’s contract off the desk, splaying his hands out as he leaned forward. 

“Tell me, Jaemin,” Taeyong began. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

**E P I L O G U E**

“I hate this stupid crown.”

Jisung scowled as Taeyong placed his newest crown atop his head. It was adorned with the finest rubies in Syrerun and the surrounding kingdoms. Jisung hated it. 

“Poor baby,” Taeyong teased. “You’re only wearing it for a moment now, imagine wearing it throughout the entire ceremony tomorrow.”

“God, don’t remind me. I don’t understand why the Syrerun tradition is to have an eight hour ceremony, it’s really not necessary at all,” Jisung complained as Taeyong fussed over his ceremonial garments. 

“Personally, I think Syrerun weddings are much more livelier than Rosorun weddings. Our ceremonies are very simple and usually only for close families. Though I guess the same wouldn’t apply for a prince’s wedding,” Youngho mused from where Jaehyun was helping him with his own outfit for the ceremony tomorrow. “Ow, Jaehyun, you stabbed me.”

“This coat is so complex,” Jaehyun muttered, trying to figure out how to pin the cloak piece to Youngho’s shoulders. “I quite like Rosorun weddings, though. I’m not a big fan of overly formal.”

“The Syrerun Royal Family knows nothing but overly formal,” Jisung muttered as Taeyong fitted his cloak around his shoulders, fastening it with a golden brooch. “It’s awful.”

“We’ll have to combine Syrerun and Rosorun traditions for our wedding, then,” Taeyong said loudly over Jisung’s whining, smoothing out the fur of Jisung’s cloak. “Sungie, why did you have to pick a _winter_ month to have your wedding. You know I don’t like the cold.”

“Jaemin wanted to get married under the holiday lights,” Jisung said with a sigh. “I don’t like saying no to him.”

Youngho snorted. “You _despise_ saying no to him. I’m pretty sure you would rip the moon from the sky if he asked you to.”

Jisung flushed, ducking his head and nearly toppling the priceless crown to the floor if it wasn’t for Taeyong snatching it out of the air at the last moment. “Shut up, I miss when you guys were afraid to speak informally to me.”

“You _hate_ formal speech,” he heard from behind him, and he whirled around to see Jaemin standing in the doorway of his suite looking like the embodiment of a dream. He was dressed in the same ceremonial garments as Jisung, though where Jisung’s was white with a green cloak, his was dark green with a white cloak. His hair was styled upwards and off his face, showing off his strong eyebrows that Jisung melted for, and his lips were painted a soft pink as was Syrerun tradition. Jisung had already licked off most of the pink from his own lips, much to Taeyong’s chagrin. He had no idea why when they were only trying on their outfits for last minute adjustments before tomorrow’s ceremony.

“Jaemin…” Jisung breathed, rendered speechless.

Jaemin smiled, stepping into the room and walking straight over to stand in front of Jisung. Today, he was technically still below Jisung in status, but tomorrow, they would be equals. Jisung grabbed Jaemin’s hand, rubbing his thumb across the silver band he had presented to Jaemin almost six months ago.

“You look beautiful, Jisung,” Jaemin said softly, intertwining their fingers. Jisung blushed; somehow despite being _engaged,_ Jaemin still managed to fluster Jisung with every compliment that left his lips in his honeyed tone. 

“Oh!” Jisung said, straightening up when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “I have something for you.”

He turned around, and Taeyong was already there with the hand-carved wooden box that held Jaemin’s gift. Jisung let go of Jaemin’s hand to take the box, rubbing his fingers over the stained wood and the engraved floral design. He faced Jaemin again, holding out the box and lifting the lid.

Inside, nestled delicately on a bed of velvet, was a dainty silver crown that would look perfect in Jaemin’s dark hair.

“It looks delicate, but it’s made of the strongest silver in Syrerun, and it’s been enchanted to never break or tarnish. I felt it suited you perfectly,” Jisung said, taking the crown from the velvet and leaving the box on his vanity table. “Will you accept it?”

“Oh, Jisung,” Jaemin replied, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “I love it. I’ll accept anything you give me.”

Jisung stepped closer, delicately placing the crown on top of Jaemin’s head, arranging his hair so it sat perfectly. He felt Jaemin’s arms around his waist, pulling him in, and he dared not meet Jaemin’s eyes, knowing he would be flustered by the love and adoration that was plainly displayed in his expression.

“It is Syrerun tradition for the engaged couple to not kiss before the wedding day,” Taeyong said exasperatedly.

“It’s a good thing I’m not a Syrerun native,” Jaemin answered cheekily before he bent Jisung backwards and kissed him. Jisung gasped, clutching at Jaemin’s arms as he nearly overbalanced, but he melted into the press of Jaemin’s lips. There was no denying that he was addicted to his fiance’s kisses. “I have something for you, too.”

He helped Jisung straighten up, and Jisung was so focused on the pink streaking from Jaemin’s mouth that he didn’t even realize Jaemin was sliding something onto his pinky. He lifted his hand up and the red band around his pinky glittered in the lamplight. “A red band?”

Jaemin lifted up his own hand to show off the red band fastened around his own pinky. “I’m afraid it’s not an enchanted red string, but I think this will last longer, and it’s removable.”

“Jaemin.” Jisung didn’t bother to continue, throwing his arms around Jaemin and pulling him close, burying his face in the fur of Jaemin’s cloak. Jaemin hugged him back just as tightly, and for once he didn’t mind that Jaemin was practically crushing his ribs with his affection. He pulled back and took Jaemin’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply.

“Please,” Taeyong groaned from somewhere behind him. “Save it for the wedding.”

Jisung laughed against Jaemin’s lips, kissing him softly once more before pulling away. When he finally tore his gaze away from Jaemin’s loving expression, he saw Jaehyun with his arms around Taeyong while Youngho fixed Taeyong’s hair, patting him consolingly as he grumbled about Jisung being a brat.

“Shall we slip away?” Jaemin whispered. “Perhaps we’ll have another wedding on our hands soon enough.”

“That’s fine by me,” Jisung whispered back, “as long as I’m not the one to plan it.”

Jaemin laughed quietly, and it was like music to Jisung’s ears. Jisung who was trained in so many instruments had never heard anything quite as beautiful as the sound of Jaemin’s laughter. 

“Let’s go,” Jaemin said, extending his hand. “Quickly, before Taeyong notices.”

Jisung grabbed Jaemin’s hand, and they snuck out the door, dashing down the hallway with their cloaks billowing behind them. They disappeared through a secret stairway behind a tapestry that Jisung had discovered when he was thirteen, just as they heard Taeyong calling their names. Jisung stifled his giggles as they tripped up the stairs, tightening his grip on Jaemin’s hands.

In the dark, their matching red bands clinked together. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jaemarkism)  
>  [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/jaemarked)


End file.
